Chapter 16

sixteen

ELLA

“You’re already done with your meeting?” Charlotte’s voice snaps through the speakers of my rental.

“We’ve rescheduled to talk again soon.”

It’s pretty far from the truth, but Charlotte never understood life in a small town. Meetings can be informal. I’ll uphold my offer to meet with him during chores, if that’s what it takes.

While Holly is famous, I doubt she’d want him to rearrange his life to accommodate this wedding. That’s not the vibe I get from her social media.

“Ella, you turn around and tell them that’s unacceptable.”

My cheeks heat with anger. She’s hundreds of miles away, yet she’s still doing everything she can to control me.

“I’m going to my room to take a nap. And then I’ll go speak with The Jacksons again.”

Silence fills the SUV as I continue my drive back to town.

“I knew I was expecting too much from you, second-rate Ella. I’ll send Laila to help.”

She doesn’t grasp that Laila isn’t an actual threat to me. If she were here she’d support me every step of the way. But I want to do this on my own.

“No!” I practically shout, then wince. “I haven’t even been here two hours. Give me time.”

“I want a positive update by tomorrow evening. Or your step-sister will be on the way to get things back on track.”

She doesn’t wait for me to respond before disconnecting, which is fine by me. Her use of an old nickname doesn’t sting like it used to. Now it just makes me angry.

First, it was because of thrift store shopping. Then, because she started me at the very bottom of her new company. I worked my way to being an award-winning wedding planner. My blood. My sweat. My tears.

So many tears.

My grip on my steering wheel tightens. I’ve worked harder than I ever imagined possible, only to be right back where I started. Charlotte is in control, still using my parents’ farm to get me to do what she wants.

I wouldn’t let myself stop by home on the way to Ever After Farms, but I can put off sleep awhile longer. What if she’s dangling this in front of me and there’s actually nothing left? Dozens of questions descend upon me, urging me to do a u-turn in the middle of the two-lane highway and head back in that direction.

The smart choice would be to go sleep everything off, exactly like I told Charlotte I was about to do. But the memory boxes I tried to fasten closed are bursting open. Especially after seeing Luke.

Eager to find music to distract me, I mash on the pre-set radio station buttons of the rental car stereo. On the fifth try, something other than static pours through the speakers. A familiar male voice croons to his female counterpart about autumn in New York. While New York is great and all, it’s not home.

Even if I’m unsure of how to move forward.

It happens fast.

The animal—maybe a deer—darts across the asphalt. There’s not a single other person on the road, but I panic, smashing on the brakes and swerving to avoid it. My heart lodges in my lungs as my rental hits the drainage ditch off the opposite side of the road with a sickening thud.

My breaths are shallow puffs as my eyes dart between all my windows and mirrors. When my eyes land on a perfectly healthy doe staring at me through the windshield, I could sob.

“You don’t belong in the road,” I whisper, shakily. In the corner of my eye, two fawns appear at the edge of the grass. It feels absurd, but I roll down my window, anyway. “Go on now! Take care of your babies. You’re safe now.”

After a long moment of exchanging stares, she dips her head and then trots in the opposite direction, completely unbothered by what just happened.

I am bothered, though. Big time.

My phone rings, slicing through the silence. I immediately smash the button on the steering wheel to answer it.

“Now really isn’t a great time, Laila,” I answer, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

“How did the meeting go?” An excited gasp floats through my speakers.

I sag in my seat and squeeze my eyes shut. “Not great. But I’ll worry about it later.”

“Was it just at the farm? Have you met Holly yet? Is she as nice as she seems like she is?”

“Laila.”

“You should talk her into a donut wall. I know people say that those are over, but I think they’re going to make a comeback. Can you imagine all those apple cider and pumpkin spice donuts? I’m practically drooling.”

“Laila.” I repeat her name a little louder.

“What?”

“Now isn’t a great time to talk about donuts.” Although, fall flavored carbs sound great, if they’re still being served anywhere by the time I make it back downtown. “It’s not a big deal—I’m fine—but I just almost hit a deer. I need to figure out what to do.”

“What? You’re joking, right? A deer? Are you okay?” Laila’s voice raises a couple of octaves, and something slams in the background.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I promise. I need to call you back, though.”

“Where are you, Ella? Surely AAA comes to that town.” More slams in the background.

“Stop worrying.” There’s a rumble of an incoming truck, so I unbuckle and open the door. “Somebody is coming. I’m going to see if I can flag them down.”

“Ella Taylor, I don’t care how wholesome that town is. Do not get into a car with a stranger. Do you hear me?”

“Got it. No cars with strangers. Call you later!” I end the call before Laila can panic anymore and ease myself out of my angled driver’s side door.

I didn’t actually hit anything, so the damage should be minimal.

Probably.

As I walk around the car, its obvious things could’ve been worse. The corner of my front bumper rests a few mere inches from a metal guardrail, and one of my tires is flat.

But at least the deer and her babies are fine.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine—” I turn to the voice, and my words die on the breeze. Luke tramps across the uneven terrain, and he looks none too happy. G reat. Concern etches lines into his face and the closer he gets to me, the faster he walks.

Today needs a solid do-over.

He stops just short of me, his arms tense like he was about to reach out, to make sure I’m actually okay, but convinced himself otherwise.

Maybe I hit my head, because I’m imagining that he cares.

“Are you sure?” he asks tersely.

“I’m a little freaked out.”

“Can I?” His eyes linger on me as he motions to the car, clearly wanting to check things out for himself. I nod because I’m not sure I can trust my voice.

He circles the SUV, occasionally crouching to check things. As he rounds the car, he mutters to himself. I wish I could hear what he’s saying, but it’s probably nothing good. Of all the people to drive up on this embarrassing moment, it would have to be Luke.

I press my hands to my eyes.

“Ella.”

Please, just let this be a dream. I’m still on the plane. None of this has actually happened.

“Yes?”

When I open my eyes, he’s hovering so close I can smell the sweet scent of hay on him. Images of him tossing bales onto the hay ride trailer flash before me

Pull yourself together, woman.

“Are you hurt?”

I sigh. “I told you no.”

“You didn’t hit anything? Your head on the window? Arm on the car door?”

“Listen, Captain America.” I wave toward the car with my left arm, then wince as pain shoots through my elbow. “I’m fine. The ditch just got in my way.”

“I saw that.” His hands flash out and touch my arm, turning it gingerly as he examines it. Every delicate touch sends my skin humming.

Ohmygosh.

“Well, I didn’t know it hurt a minute ago,” I snap.

He hardly flinches.

I’m not proud of how well I’m not holding it together right now, but I’m officially overloaded. My emotions, my exhaustion—it’s all too much.

“We need to get ice on that, but I think it’ll be okay. Let me guess, you were avoiding a deer?” The tiniest of smiles plays around the corner of his mouth.

“And if I was?”

“I’d say it sounds exactly like you.” He reaches out and brushes a thumb across my forehead. Swiping at a stray hair, a cut, who’s to say?

All I know is I can’t breathe with the way he’s looking down at me.

“I can’t decide if you’re being nice or not,” I murmur. “And it wasn’t just one deer. She had babies.”

“Did she at least say thank you?”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I would never.” His voice is as tender as the way he’s looking at me. “So which Cap am I?”

I blink, jarred by the abrupt change of subject. Forget my almost wreck. This man is going to be the one to give me whiplash.

“What?”

“You called me Captain America. So which version am I?”

He’s given me free rein to examine him, so that’s exactly what I do .

Luke rarely had scruffy days when we were younger. He was typically clean cut, with a jaw that could cut steel. That man is still here, only now he’s got a gorgeous beard that is lethal combined with his rolled-up sleeves.

Forearms and facial hair are officially my favorite combination.

He’s definitely the Infinity War version of Steve Rogers. Bearded and broody.

“Nomad,” I blurt out. “Definitely nomad Steve.”

He gives me a genuine smile then, one that showcases the dimple in his right cheek and the crinkles around his eyes.

“It’s the beard, isn’t it?”

The beard doesn’t hurt.

Maybe there is a head injury involved. I want to grab hold of that plaid and yank him to me. Considering my track record so far as a professional isn’t doing so well, might as well go down with a blaze of glory, right?

Do you trust me? The ghost of a memory whispers along my skin.

“Unfortunately,” I answer.

“It’s unfortunate you have a spare?”

My breath escapes in a whoosh. I need sleep or distance from Luke. Or both. Time is slipping between past and present as I grapple with feelings that are very much still here.

“I’m sorry. I must have misheard. I’m sure I do—it’s a rental. You can just slap it on and I’ll drive myself to the bed-and-breakfast.”

His brows draw together. “You’re not driving anywhere, Ella. I’ll call Dean to take care of your car and I’ll take you to town.” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before he turns and heads back to my SUV.

Once again, I feel control slipping out of my fingers. My life has been as chaotic as trying to grip a freshly caught fish from the lake for the last twenty-four hours.

“That’s silly. I’m sure it’s driveable with the spare.” I follow him.

“Not worth it,” he calls over his shoulder. He’s already got the tailgate open by the time I catch up to him and is hefting out my suitcase. “Is this all you’ve got?”

“There’s a laptop bag in the front seat.”

“Go get in my truck.” He opens the passenger door and fishes out my laptop bag, before leaning over and pulling my keys out of the ignition.

“Luke, I can carry my stuff?—”

“I know you can,” he replies, closing the door. “But you don’t need to. I’m going to go put this in my truck. You’ve got a choice here: you can follow me and hop into the front seat or I’m going to come back and put you in there myself.” Without missing a beat, he glances both ways down the two-lane highway before crossing back to his truck.

I must stand there in shock for longer than he likes, because as soon as my things are in the backseat of his cab, he’s heading straight back for me.